


Of Lions and Eagles

by o-a-crutchfeild (sophiacrutchfeild)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22156243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiacrutchfeild/pseuds/o-a-crutchfeild
Summary: Circus AU for the Caprive Prince Reverse Bang 2019@capri-bigbang2k19Based on the lovely @silverdraeconis‘ Cirque du Vere piece!When Damen woke, he was locked in a cage with a lion, and his head was killing him. He was on his feet in less than three seconds, trying to put as much distance between himself and the creature as possible. He took a deep breath, and assessed the situation… the lion was chained to the opposite wall, and didn’t seem all that interested in him. It didn’t have the range of motion to reach him, and even if it could, it probably knew that food was coming soon, and Damen wouldn’t be the easiest meal it could get. For the moment, he wasn’t in acute danger from the lion.Despite this, he was definitely in acute danger from someone.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	Of Lions and Eagles

When Damen woke, he was locked in a cage with a lion, and his head was killing him.

He was on his feet in less than three seconds, trying to put as much distance between himself and the creature as possible. He took a deep breath, and assessed the situation… the lion was chained to the opposite wall, and didn’t seem all that interested in him. It didn’t have the range of motion to reach him, and even if it could, it probably knew that food was coming soon, and Damen wouldn’t be the easiest meal it could get. For the moment, he wasn’t in acute danger from the lion. 

Despite this, he was definitely in acute danger from someone, but for the life of him he couldn’t recall how he’d ended up in this cage. The last thing he remembered was going out for the night, and following Jokaste into a tavern that she swore would make all his worries disappear. He’d chosen a golden drink that he remembered tasted like honey and good rum, and after that… the night was blurred. 

Well, his worries certainly had vanished, but they seemed to have been replaced with a whole new set of far more pressing concerns, such as what he was going to do to get out of this cage, who put him here in the first place, and where, geographically, he was. 

He wouldn’t have to wonder for long on all three accounts, however, as the door of the cage swung open to reveal an aging man with a broad-shouldered physique and a nearly black beard. The man crossed to stand near the lion, stroking its mane in a manner that did not show any kind of warmth or affection. “What are you worth, do you think?” the man asked, glancing at Damen with a cool judgement in his eyes. “Tall, quite strong obviously, mildly attractive… what price could you fetch?” 

Damen did not answer. The man looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place him, and considering that this was clearly his captor, the last thing he wanted was to play into his games. Showing a hand never ended well, especially before you knew the rules of the table or even what your cards meant. 

“Of course, your father will most likely pay the most for you,” the old man said with what sounded like it could have been a laugh if it wasn’t so false. “That’s very good news for you. It means that this little encounter shouldn’t change your living situation for all that long, and you’ll get away scot free.” 

Damen leaned against the bars of the cage, waiting for the old man to come out and say what he meant. All these implications and provocations were getting tiresome very quickly. He couldn’t understand what the point of it was- who was the villainous monologue even for? Was his kidnapper actually expecting to impress him, hoping for a positive review on his kidnapping skills later? Was it meant to be entertainment? 

The old man seemed to be frustrated by his silence, because he growled, yes, outright growled like the animal he had ceased petting, and almost moved closer to Damen, before seeming to think better of getting out of range of his little pet, and scoffing. “Well, and here I thought when they said you were a big dumb lump, they were talking about your intellect. Are you actually incapable of speech?” 

“No. I just haven’t heard much worth a response.”

The look on the old man’s face was quite amusing. Damen wasn’t certain what had been expected. This old guy really expected him to be intimidated? Damen couldn’t fathom how, even drunk, this man could have gotten the jump on him, but he was far more interested in how he’d get out of the situation than how he’d gotten into it, and somehow he was pretty sure that any questions about that particular topic would go unanswered. 

Unfortunately, Damen had forgotten one crucial thing that really should have made him a bit more nervous, and that one crucial thing was called a lion. He remembered that one crucial lion just as the old man walked towards the place where the chain was affixed to the bars of the cage, with a large silver key. He paused, just before unlocking the beast, to look at Damen, seeming quite self-satisfied. “You’ll find,” the old man said, “that I am impatient, and so is this lovely creature.” He stood up, pocketing the key and meeting Damen’s eyes, a cool threat hanging in them. “Tonight, you and he will go into the arena. You’ll be given a whip, and a costume. Whether you succeed or fail… The audience of the Cirque di Vere has been promised a show, and a show they shall have.”

In an instant, everything clicked, and Damen felt a sinking in his stomach. He knew at once where he’d recognized the man from. 

It was Auguste’s uncle. 

…

Two years ago, Damen had made a terrible, horrible mistake and decided to take his girl of the week, a petite blonde whose name he couldn’t for the life of him recall, to the circus. It was all well and good that he couldn’t remember her, because halfway through the date she’d gotten quite annoyed with him- specifically, when the silk dancers came out, and one of them, a tall, confident looking man with an infectious smile and what seemed like an infallible charm landed just in front of their seats. Damen had nearly forgotten that he was on a date at all, as he bended to kiss the extended hand. The girl had left, claiming that she felt a bit ill. At the door to the tent, Damen had been handed a slip of paper, inviting him backstage. 

It was just going to be a fling, he’d thought, and for a few hours, it was… until they’d both had a few drinks in them, and Damen had ended up with Auguste on top of the trapeze platforms, doing something that trapeze platforms were not meant for. Then, he’d asked to see some of the tricks in private, and Auguste had agreed, if Damen promised to catch him.

He’d missed. 

The crunch of bones snapping was sobering to say the least, and it had been a nightmare when they’d tried to sue him. Auguste couldn’t perform anymore- his leg had been shattered, and while his father’s lawyers had avoided any charges going through, and Damen had tried to forget the whole awful incident, it was clear now that he’d escaped nothing. 

He sighed heavily, glancing at the lion. Even with a weapon, he wasn’t sure that his was getting out of this alive. He stepped closer to the lion, and heard a voice coming from behind him. “I wouldn’t, if I were you.” 

Damen took a deep breath, and turned around. “And why is that?” he asked, looking at the man sitting in the wheelchair with a kind of wariness that he wasn’t used to having around anyone. 

“Because if you come at a lion like that it’ll take your hand off,” Auguste said dryly. “Look. I may hate you, but I don’t actually want you to die. I’d rather just get that nice ransom check for the amount that we tried to sue you for in the first place and be done with it. My brother is good with the animals. He’ll be in here to coach you for a bit, make sure you know enough to not get eaten, and in return, you’ll never mention our names again. Deal?” 

Damen looked at Auguste, and then at the lion. Well, this wasn’t going to be fun, was it? But it might be a little less horrible if he had some semblance of knowledge of how to not die tonight, so… “Deal. Honestly though, I have to ask, why do I have to fight a lion in the first place?” 

“Because my uncle knows that a lot of people really dislike your family and will pay a lot for the chance to witness you being eaten alive.” August offered a quick smile, the kind that made Damen feel like there was a joke he wasn’t in on, most likely at his expense. “Best of luck.”

As he wheeled out, Damen had to wonder just what his family had ever done to make anyone hate him that much. 

…

Damen’s first impression of Laurent was- who the fuck lets this kid near lions?

“I was all for letting you get eaten,” he declared, stepping into the cage haughtily and shooting Damen and ice-cold glare. “But Auguste says that if you die, he’ll know I didn’t train you properly and he’ll be quite disappointed, so you’d better listen carefully and do as I say or else.” 

Damen’s second impression of Laurent was, oh, that’s why they let that kid near lions. 

Laurent stepped up to the lion, holding a whip in his pale, thin hands, before twisting around to meet Damen’s. Damen knew, in that moment, that he was very glad that he was expensive. “Do you know how to crack it?” Laurent asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Damen glanced at the whip, considering. “In theory, but I’m better with a sword.” 

Laurent rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s convenient. It’d be easier to do this with more space,” he muttered. “Alright, you can’t actually crack the whip inside the cage, obviously, so we’re just going to make sure you have a really solid base in theoreticals.” He moved closer, and demonstrated his grip, his feet solid beneath his shoulders, as he held the whip firmly. “You see how I’m holding it? I want you to copy my pose and grip.” 

Damen chuckled. “Kid, I’m pretty sure I know how to hold it.” 

Laurent crossed his arms. “Do you want to learn or do you want to get eaten by a lion?” 

Damen mirrored Laurent’s earlier pose. “Alright. So how does this keep me from being eaten?” 

“He’s trained,” Laurent said, a bit of pride in his voice. “Mostly. He’ll recognize if you can control the whip, and he knows what a lashing feels like. If you can get one or two good hits on his hide, he won’t mess with you much until you put the weapon down… so you just have to not put the weapon down until you’re out of the ring. Think you can manage it?” 

“Yeah, seems simple enough.” 

“Simple enough while he’s chained up.” 

Damen nodded. “So I just… swing it, right? Not much to it?” 

Laurent rolled his eyes again. It seemed to be a favorite expression of his. “Not quite,” he said. “At least, not unless you don’t care about getting caught on it. As fun as it would be to see you take a lashing, it’d be inefficient in keeping you alive for you to trip over your own whip.” Laurent stepped back, letting the whip fall behind him, and to the side. “When you bring it up, you don’t want it to hit you.” 

Damen nodded. “Can I try?” 

Laurent looked up at him, blue eyes tense. “You want me to hand you a weapon, while I’m alone with you in a cage?” 

“How else am I supposed to figure out how to use it?” Damen asked. 

Laurent scowled, and moved within range of the lion, holding the whip out to Damen. “Fine. If you don’t give it back, I’m unlocking him. You don’t know how to use it properly yet, so don’t get any clever plans.” 

“Can’t be too clever if they wouldn’t work,” Damen pointed out. 

Laurent nearly smiled. Nearly. Damen was almost entirely sure. 

Damen looked down, lying the whip to his right, behind him. “Is that how I should hold it?” he asked. “Is it accurate?” 

Laurent nodded. “Looks about right to me. Now, hand it back. We can’t do any cracking in here, like I said, so there’s no reason for you to keep holding onto it.” 

Damen passed the weapon back. “So, now what?” 

“Do you know how looping works?” Laurent asked. 

Damen shrugged. “More or less.” 

“Show me.” 

Damen swung his arm up smoothly, before bringing it down fast. Laurent stepped back quickly. “Was that correct?” Damen asked. 

“Yes. Yes, that was… that was fine,” Laurent nodded. “That should work for a forward crack. Do you want to learn other variations?” 

“Think it will help?” 

Laurent nodded. “It could.” 

“Then yes, of course.”

Laurent moved, placing his left foot forward, and pulling back his arm. “It’s like throwing a ball for the overhand crack,” he explained, demonstrating the movement. He paused for a moment, looking Damen over. “Well, are you going to try it or not? I’d prefer not to be wasting my time here if all you’re going to do is gawk and then-” 

“Why doesn’t it bite you?” Damen cut him off. “You or the old man. You’re not holding a weapon, so how come I can’t put mine down once I’ve trained it?” 

Laurent looked amused, and shook his head. “I can go near _him-_ not it- because I was there when he was born, and helped raise him from a cub. Lions are very hierarchical, and this one knows I’m part of his pride, so he won’t let any harm come to me. Same goes for the rest of the troupe, with a few exceptions.” 

“What exceptions?”

“The ones who beat him, obviously,” Laurent chuckled. “If you hit a dog, it’ll stay loyal. If you hit a cat, it’ll hold a grudge. Alas, this is one cat you’ll have to hit, because you’re not part of his pride, and he’ll eat you if you don’t.” 

Damen frowned. “So you’re alright with your pet being whipped?” 

“I don’t have a choice in the matter, do I? People pay to see it more than most acts, so it’s not as though my uncle’s going to close that ring’s centerpiece.” 

Damen frowned. That didn’t quite seem right… but he wasn’t exactly his business. “Well, what’s his name, anyway?”

Laurent gave Damen an unamused look. “What’s it matter to you? Now, there’s one last lash I’m going to teach you, and then tonight, hopefully for all of us, the ransom will arrive, and you will be gone from our lives forever. Thing you can manage that?” 

Damen grinned. “Shouldn’t be too much of a problem. I’m not the one who decided to be here.” 

…

That night, Damen was thrown an outfit with more buttons than he could honestly say he knew what to do with, and brought in chains to the tents. His heart was pounding, and he hoped desperately that the theory would be enough in practice. He passed Auguste, and tensed instantly… but the dark blue eyes seemed much less sharp than before, almost playful. Damen wasn’t sure if that was because Auguste was looking forward to seeing him murdered by a lion, or something else entirely, but it was almost comforting to see. He nodded, and Auguste gave him a tiny salute, just as Damen was unchained, and shoved into the ring. The crowd began screaming, clearly ready for the slaughter. There was something special about bloodlust cries that made them quite different from normal excitement, Damen thought. He’d been to plenty of sporting events, but none of them had ever had this kind of dissonance in the air, like the crowd was cheering in a minor chord. 

Damen took a deep breath, and stepped into the ring, taking the whip from the wall, and remembering the theory, placed it on the ground to his right, behind him, before swinging it up smoothly, and cracking it down. If the sound of the crack hadn’t alerted him, Damen would have been able to tell he’d gotten it right purely based on the reaction of the crowd around him, which nearly doubled in volume. Damen looked up for the first time, and for a moment, he was sure there had to be some hideous joke being played upon him, because up above was a blond acrobat on the silks, performing that same routine that Damen had watched, years earlier. 

For a moment, Damen thought that perhaps the entire incident had been a scam, and Auguste’s legs had never been harmed. Maybe this was his brother’s idea of a great practical joke? Kastor had never really known what was appropriate… but then, Damen saw the face of the acrobat, dancing artfully above him, and recognized his short-tempered teacher from just hours before. 

He was just as entranced by the show as he’d been two years ago, which was a problem, considering that the lion had just been released. 

Damen brought the whip up quickly, cracking it in the air just as the lion leapt through, and… stopped. Damen took a step back, as the lion stared him down, eyes shining with what seemed like sheer glee. The crowd was dead silent, uncertain what to expect. Two pure exhibits of peak physical form, Damen and the lion, eye to eye, neither one moving an inch. Damen glanced up, and saw that Laurent had paused his routine, perched on the trapeze and looking down on the scene with an intense, calculative gaze. When Damen caught his gaze, Laurent tilted his head, almost accusingly. 

Slowly, Damen brought his hand up, and ran it down the lion’s forehead. The lion closed his eyes, and made a low, rumbling noise that, if Damen wasn’t very, very mistaken, was a purr. Damen felt a grin split his face, and he stroked the lion again. 

The crowd’s reaction was… less than positive. Damen had been right about the bloodlust- if not a man eaten, the crowd had at least been promised a lion beaten into submission, and a fantastic battle, not some brat whose father most of them hated getting to pet an exotic cat. The booing was louder than even the cheering had been, and Damen found quickly that the real task of the night would be to dodge circus food, flung from disappointed guests’ baskets and laps. He hadn’t known people actually did that kind of thing. 

It was at this moment that Laurent decided to land in the ring. For some reason that Damen would be more than a little hard pressed to guess at, the younger man seemed to be interested in taking a more hands-on role in the show. 

“I don’t know what you did,” he growled in Damen’s ear, “but this is going to be a show. If you’re not going to fight a lion, you better believe you’ll be riding him.”

“Riding?” Damen demanded, perhaps a bit loudly, because the crowd seemed to suddenly develop a far greater interest in the events that were transpiring in the ring. 

“Yes. Riding. You’ve got such an affinity, after all, don’t you? Why not take it a step further?” 

Damen hesitated. He’d ridden bareback before, yes, but that was horses, that was entirely different. He reached out, and stroked the lion’s mane again. “Think he’ll let me?” 

“I think that if we have a failed show, my uncle will be extremely unhappy. Climb on, and leave some room for me.” 

“What?” Damen demanded, but Laurent was already moving across the arena. Damen bit his lip, uncertainly staring down the lion’s back… there was not truly a lot that could be done about it, was there? He took a deep breath, and then, in under three seconds, he’d jumped onto the lion’s back, and was gripping his sides with his legs as tight as he could, holding on for dear life. The crowd was, once more, delighted by this turn of events. They really were quite fickle, Damen thought, glancing at the half eaten cotton candy on the ground before him, that the lion quickly stepped over. 

It was then that Damen felt something landing behind him, and heard the crowd’s cheering yet again. It wasn’t cruel cheering this time, however. It was the kind of amazed applause that he’d recalled from the last circus. Damen turned his head to see, behind him, Laurent, standing on one foot on the lion’s rump, his other foot held high over his head, and his back arched beautifully. Damen nearly fell off the lion at the sight. It really was, he had to admit, a fantastic circus, kidnapping aside. 

Damen considered for a moment, before tapping the lion in the side, a small nudge meant to say, _go faster._ It was as though a gunshot had been released. A half hysterical, half delighted laugh ripped unbidden from Damen’s throat as the beast raced around the circle, and he felt himself leaning forward, truly enjoying the ride. If this was what it meant to be kidnapped and tortured, he’d have to try it more often. He laughed, and looked up at the crowd, raising one hand and waving. 

It was almost too short a time in the ring before the act was over, and the curtains came down around the ring. Laurent jumped down, scowling and stretching himself out. “You had to make him go faster, didn’t you?” Laurent groaned. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to hold that pose when he was racing around at fifty miles an hour?” 

“I doubt more difficult than what your uncle had planned for me,” Damen retorted. “What happened, anyway? Why didn’t he attack?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea. You’re lucky I was there to save the act, though, because if you’d impacted ticket sales, or heaven forbid caused a refund, you’d have definitely ended up on his bad side.”

Damen nodded slowly. “Why did you help me, anyway? Don’t you want me dead? I’d think that you would hope for me to be on his bad side.” 

Laurent glanced at Damen, scowling. “I want the ransom money, not your neck. And in any case, Auguste wants you to survive, so… I suppose I do as well.” 

Damen shrugged it off. That made a good deal of sense- loyalty and greed were great motivators for many an unlikely ally, and in this… literal freakshow… Damen could use every ally he could get. He glanced at the lion, uncertainly. He’d curled up on the ground, and seemed to have fallen back asleep. Maybe it was a vegetarian lion or something along those lines. 

As Damen walked over, the lion opened one eye, and then closed it again. Damen knelt down, and was about to stroke his mane, when the beast let out an unmistakable growl. Clearly, whatever had happened in the ring must have been some kind of insane fluke.

… 

Damen was brought back to the cage, with little more than a dirty look from the old man. That night, when he heard the door opening, Damen was half expecting to be shouted at in some ridiculous fashion, but instead, light footsteps came up to the cage, and Laurent slipped in, a plate of food in one hand. He held it out, looking annoyed. “Well? Are you going to eat, or not?” 

Damen hesitated, before taking the plate. “Is it poisoned?” he asked. “Since the lion didn’t actually end up killing me?” 

Laurent scoffed, looking annoyed as he sat down across from Damen, crossing his arms and legs at once. “Don’t be an idiot. We can’t get money for your safe return if you’re dead.” 

Damen raised a brow. Was this kid actually planning to sit with him while he was eating? “Well, maybe it’s just poisoned to make me ill, without any of the lethal effects.” 

“Why would we want you to get sick in a cage we have to clean? The lion’s filth is enough without adding yours to it,” Laurent said. 

Damen nodded, taking a bite. “So, was that all you came for?” It wasn’t terrible, he had to admit. Some bread, seemed like it was fresh, and a thick beef stew that wasn’t half bad at all. “I mean, I’m glad I won’t have to starve while I’m waiting for the ransom money to come through, so thanks.”

Laurent rolled his eyes. Yep, that was definitely his favorite thing to do in response to just about anything Damen had to say. “Actually,” he said, his tone a bit clipped, “the first half of the money was just wired to a foreign account. We’ll get the other half in cash when we go to swap you tomorrow.” 

“That was fast,” Damen grinned. “I was worried I’d be stuck here for months on end.”

Laurent shrugged. “You’re a liability, and I think my uncle’s a bit afraid of you now that he knows he can’t rely on the lion eating you if you get too close to him. I doubt you’ll be seeing him again while you’re here.” 

Damen nodded slowly. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked. “Why didn’t you just give me the food and leave?” 

“I need to bring the plate back when you’re done with it,” Laurent said promptly, before hesitating, and continuing. “Also… Auguste and I had a conversation. A few, actually. And he said, from what he can remember, that everything that happened was… not something you would have meant to do.”

“Honestly,” Damen said quietly, “I’m sorry for what happened. I don’t think it was alright to kidnap me, or throw me in a ring with a lion, but all things considered… you deserved compensation. At least, Auguste did. I never meant to hurt him.” 

Laurent nodded, and for a moment, in the halflight of the cage, Damen could see something almost vulnerable about him. Damen took another bite of the food, before setting it aside, and looking at Laurent, trying to pick out details about him. Laurent looked up, and his eyes were sharp again. “If you’re even thinking about giving a description to the police-”

“How did I end up here?” Damen asked, cutting him off. 

Laurent shifted uncomfortably. “A girl,” he said, finally. “I didn’t get her name, but my uncle paid her a lot to deliver you. He’s already made ten times that in profit, and he’s only got half the ransom, but still…” He shrugged. “If I were you, I’d choose who I sleep with a lot more carefully, you seem to have the absolute worst ability to stay out of dangerous, sex-related situations of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Damen wasn’t sure how to deny it, or even if denying it was an option at this point. “Was she blonde? Pale skinned, with blue eyes?” 

“You certainly have a type, don’t you?” Laurent smirked. “Yes, she was, though I’m not sure how far that will narrow things down for you.”

For a moment, they were quiet in the cage. It was a comfortable silence. Damen wondered how long it took most people to develop Stockholm Syndrome. It was typically more than one day, right? 

“If you ever need someone to ride a lion again…” Damen started, before trailing off, realizing that it was probably not the smartest thing to offer. 

Laurent’s head jerked up, his eyes wide with astonishment. “You’re joking. You have to be joking.”

Damen shrugged. Not the smartest thing to offer, maybe, but perhaps one of the more interesting ways to spend a weekend. “You know how to get in touch, considering that you have to have stalked me a fair bit to manage to pull off this kidnapping thing. Just… give me a call next time. No need to hold me for ransom, alright?”

Laurent blinked, and though he carefully composed his expression, Damen was pretty sure he’d succeeded in baffling that particular acrobat. It wasn’t a bad experience, overall… though it seemed that it would be a very expensive one. 

…

The next morning, Damen was brought into a van with three strongmen, and the old man at the wheel. He was brought to a forest in the middle of nowhere, and once a backpack filled with cash had been handed off, the van was unlocked, and he was escorted out, and told, along with his parents, that if they didn’t want any more trouble, they’d remain there for the next fifteen minutes. It was a rather awkward fifteen minutes, before Damen was brought into his father’s car, seated next to Kastor, who made jokes about Damen running off to join the circus for the next several minutes until their father, Theomedes, snapped at him that he’d said quite enough.

The next week seemed to be more or less ordinary, though Damen made a point of not asking out Jokaste again. He didn’t have any proof that it had been her who sold him out, but there was definitely something false about her relief when he came home. Damen hadn’t really stopped thinking about the experience eleven days later- who would?- but he had lost any slight expectation of contact from the circus when his phone rang. 

It was a blocked number, and Damen answered, expecting a robotic voice to tell him that unfortunately, his social security number had been cancelled, and he needed to register his credit card with said robot to reopen it. Instead, a sharp, tense voice on the other end asked, “Did you mean it as a joke?”

Damen knew at once who it was on the other end, of course. “Well,” he said, leaning back in his bed. “That would depend on what, exactly, you’re referring to.”

“Eagle hasn’t been letting anyone on his back since you,” Laurent snapped. “The audience wants to see the act, and it’s not available, and we’ll pay you to show up and do it.” Then, muttered under his breath, “Stupid cat…” 

“Eagle?” Damen asked, half laughing. “Is that his name?” 

“Will you be there or not?”

Damen considered for a moment. It would definitely be among his worse ideas to go back into a ring with a lion, among people who had recently kidnapped him, and then try to recreate what had obviously been some kind of fluke that he’d been lucky enough to survive. “Tell me where I’m going.” 


End file.
